Discovery
by SaltwaterJanuary
Summary: The discoveries of childhood lead you into adulthood. Upon entering adulthood, however, you discover that you wish you could have childhood again.


_Discovery_

It was simple. It was only upon looking back that it became complicated. It was only upon looking back that they missed those bright days. A common phenomenon throughout time.

* * *

"I bet you can't!" The words were not really meant to stop her- they were to prompt her to try harder. And so she did.

"We'll see!" She squeaked, her fingertips just barely missing the other's vest. Her shoes thudded harder against the pavement, determination building with each step. She _was_ going to reach him. She _was_ going to prove those words wrong, however playfully they were meant.

She stretched out her small arms as far as she could, and at last caught a hold of his clothing. "Aha!"

He wasn't expecting this, lost his balance and fell. She tumbled down with him.

They both laughed the fall off, silently surprised at the other's actions. "I told you!" She exclaimed, as politely as she could.

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" He stuck out his tongue, not meaning much of it.

She stood up, extending her hand to him as she did so. He took it with hesitation, afraid of any cooties he might catch. But what were the odds of that if it was just for a moment? He took it and stood.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"You're welcome," she replied, ever cheerfully. She skipped on across the pavement, as carefree as before.

* * *

"I think you're scared!" She teased, knowing quite well that he actually was, in a small way. She knew that the words were only going to help prompt him through it.

"I-I'm not." He sat down at the table, checking all around the room for any extra eyes watching. When he found none, he was slightly relieved.

"Now," she giggled a bit. "Do you care for some tea?"

He nodded, holding the play teacup up for her to fill with her imagination. She smiled and poured the tea kettle into it.

"See, it's not so bad. How is your tea?"

He took a sip and thought for a moment. "It's pretty good."

"I'm so glad." She took a seat across from him and gave herself some tea as well. She had learned from the best of tea-makers. She'd have to thank her mother afterwards.

"Do you have any muffins?" Charmy chimed.

"Yes sir." She handed him an empty plastic plate, being sure not to knock over the tea kettle.

He sighed a "thanks".

"What's wrong?" She asked, taking a muffin from the plate gently.

"Oh, nothing. It's just I prefer blueberry over almond," he replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll remember that next time. You'll come to the next tea party, right?" By the way her eyes glimmered, he knew that she expected an affirmative.

The tea was pretty good, how could he refuse? "Of course, Cream."

She beamed. "I'm glad."

He didn't know it, but he would be back many times for those tea parties- they would be his 'food' when there was none back at home.

* * *

"I don't think you can..." He stuck his tongue out, facing the screen and practically shaking the controller rampant.

She groaned at the horrible player she turned out to be. She could improve, she told herself. She would, his words were proof of that. "Let's find out."

She pressed the buttons- the ones that she was pretty sure were right- and she waited for the moment on screen.

In one swift kick, his character's leg took hers out. The words K.O appeared, and she knew she'd lost. She sighed again.

"That's four! Haha! Hey, do you wanna go again?" He looked over at her and saw that she was analyzing the controller studiously. "Hey, do ya?"

She nodded, looking at him with a determination that wasn't there before. "Yes."

The next thing he knew, she had won. He still didn't understand that moment in hindsight.

She would come to see that moment as the day she proved her resilience.

* * *

"I bet they'll do it…" He whispered. He hoped that they wouldn't notice- they were too wrapped up in each other to do so.

"Do you think?" She looked at him inquisitively, honestly questioning it herself.

"Yeah…"

The adults in the kitchen moved closer, coming dangerously close to kissing. Charmy started to cover his eyes. Cream watched wide-eyed, not sure what to expect.

"If my mother marries Vector, won't that mean that you'll come to live with us?" Cream asked, turning to face him in their 'hiding place'- behind the sofa to be specific.

"Maybe. Would that sort of make us…like siblings?" He was interested in the idea. It would be fun living with Cream and her mother. Plus, their food was amazing. That would be really fun.

"I think it would. Mr. Vector is like your dad, right?"

"Kinda."

"It would be nice to be siblings. Don't you think?" She smiled at him.

"Yeah. That would be cool." In the back of his mind, he wondered if he _would_ like it that way.

* * *

"You can do it." He approached from behind her right shoulder, startling her slightly.

"Oh! You scared me there for a moment. You-you heard me talking to myself," Cream stuttered.

He nodded. She realized it was the first time she'd seen him without his bright, overly-wide smile. It was the first time she'd ever seen his antennas point downwards. She didn't know he was even capable of doing any of it.

"What- what did you hear?"

"You don't know what to do about your grades. You don't know if you'll pass the next test. Pretty much all of it." He sat down, crisscrossed, across from her, blocking her view of the spacious yard around her. She leaned back against the tree behind her and nodded, pushing herself to smile tolerantly. "I know my mother would be so disappointed with me if I failed this one too."

"But you won't fail!" He smiled sympathetically with his eyes.

She was both touched and surprised at his return of support. She smiled back at him. "I hope you're right."

He got up, straddled onto the tree, and climbed his way up- despite the easier route of his wings. "But there _is_ one thing I bet you can't do."

"What?" She stood up, gazing towards him eagerly, already knowing the answer.

"I bet you can't climb up here."

She was on the same branch within a few seconds. She stuck her tongue out- the way he had unknowingly taught her to. "I think I just did!"

He laughed. "I guess so…"

They thrived on laughter and distraction as an escape to the changes around them. The changes that had only begun.

* * *

"I don't understand," Charmy began, drawing himself into another orange-colored sidewalk chalk square.

"I don't either." She was circling herself with the purple chalk, staring up at the sunset.

"Your mother used to be so close to my- my parents." He was hesitant to say the word- wondering what they would think of being called "parents". "And now…" There was no word he'd ever learned in any class to fill that gap.

"I asked my mother one time," Cream began slowly. "And she got very upset. I tried to ask why, but she said that I shouldn't speak about it."

"Oh," Charmy looked up at the disappearing light and color, hesitant to ever see it leave. He looked back to his sidewalk drawing. "Vector used to talk about your mom _all_ the time. Lately, he hasn't been the same really. I was too afraid to ask. But- if both your mom and Vector are sad lately- that must mean that…"

"They don't love each other anymore." A tear streaked across her face as she said it. It was awful to think that anyone's love could vanish.

Charmy saw the tear and felt an urge to hug her, but he was too afraid to do so. "I guess not." He breathed a reminiscent sigh. "I guess we'll never be almost-siblings."

She nodded wistfully, tracing over the purple circle with her gloved fingers. "It's sad. I wish they didn't have to upset each other."

"Yeah." He wondered what caused it, but dismissed the thought in favor of savoring the last of the sun.

Gradually, he stood up. "Your mother wanted you to be home soon after sunset…" he said quietly. No longer afraid of the cooties, he stood and extended an arm to her. She took it gratefully and stood.

"Charmy."

"Yeah?"

"Even if our parents don't get along so well anymore…We can still be friends, right?" She was so afraid of the answer that she held on with a breath.

"Of course. Why would that stop us from being friends, Cream?" He had never sounded quite so sure, and he was proud of the way it sounded. She appreciated this.

"I was just making sure." She smiled at him fondly- realizing quite abruptly that he was actually her friend. She wondered if they'd ever called each other "friends" before and could not recall a time.

They headed together out of the empty playground.

* * *

"What's wrong?"

She only wished that she could say or describe it to him. The easiest thing for her to say to him was," It's just hard."

"What is?" He sat beside her on the Rabbits' porch swing, swinging it roughly on purpose. He remembered that doing things like that had always worked in days past.

"It's…hard." She sniffed. "Hard to say."

He stopped rocking the swing, wishing that it could be like it used to. He felt mostly the same, and yet she couldn't seem to stop changing. He just wanted her to cheer up like she used to- the days when a ray of sunshine was enough.

But she was crying again, and it was still sunny all around them. He didn't understand.

"I-Cream." He felt the bravery he had lacked before build within him. He drew her in beside him and hugged her.

She embraced him in return, forgetting whatever she had been taught about breaking down in public, whatever she had been taught about hugging boys, and whatever other teaching she knew she was crossing.

"Thank you." She meant it well.

"You're welcome." Unknowingly, the way she had taught him.

They slowly let go.

"Why have you been less…like Cream?" Charmy finally asked.

"I haven't felt like myself."

"Who have you felt like then?"

"Like…I'm just not so interested in playing the things I used to."

He frowned, puzzled at this confession. How could they play together if she didn't want to play?

The birds chirping nearby continued in song- just like they always had. The grass was still growing- just like it always had.

"What _do_ you want to do?" He asked, terrified.

"I want…" She sighed. "Maybe I want to grow up." Her head collapsed into her hands. "Maybe I don't. But…Charmy, I have to."

"That doesn't mean we can't still do something together," he muttered. "You might have to grow up, but do you have to leave everything else behind?"

"Not everything," she breathed. "I-I'm not leaving you."

He paused for a moment to think over the words, the connection startling.

* * *

"I feel like something _is_ different. Not just in me, anymore. Charmy, do you feel it?" She somehow hoped he would detect that difference- that he would understand the thing that had settled gradually in her mind. She felt that it was unfair that she seemed to be the only one to see it, but she knew this wasn't his fault. She knew it was unfair to blame him.

Charmy had noticed the difference in her eyes, the difference in her look, the difference in her voice, but he had no idea what that difference was. On the inside it scared him, but he was hesitant to show it.

"I mean…you have been a bit different. And I've been a bit busier with the detective agency. Nothing's changed _between_ us, though. Right?"

She found herself shaking at the words. "That's what I wanted to know. Do you feel any different towards me?"

He tilted his face away, remembering the distant sounds of their games in his front yard. Besides the fact that the way they spent time together was different, he did not feel any change in their relationship.

"No. Do you feel any different towards me?"

She wasn't sure in her mind, but in her heart she knew.

"I just feel more close than before." The only way she knew how to.

He smiled at her, it reminded her of the way that he used to smile when they had those imaginary conversations.

"That's good, right?"

"Of course." And particularly dangerous.

"Yay!" He flipped midair, nothing had changed about him. It was saddening and inspiring all at once.

* * *

He dreamed of the day that she would run out to his house again, hoping to herself that she could convince him to play tea party.

She dreamed of the day that he would come to her house, suddenly very calm, and ask for more than a game of house- to ask for a chance at a real one.

He would've accepted the moment she asked- he hated the fact that he actually missed tea parties.

She would've accepted the moment he asked- she hated the fact that she actually wanted a future with him.

One day they'd have to face the difference between them.

* * *

"I'm- I'm heading off soon," she said softly. Her eyes did not meet his, and they did not meet the moon overhead.

"I know. And I'll miss you. You know where I'll be," he laughed a little, hoping to cheer her up.

She did smile at him lightly, barely detectable under the pale light. He counted it a success.

"I'll miss you too," she returned bitterly. She wasn't sure what she'd miss most, but she would miss it.

He nodded and looked at the familiar surroundings, comforting himself with the fact that it would be his reminder. It would be so different without her.

The short grass rustled lightly in the warm breeze, nothing else in sight save the tree nearby and the house behind them. And the moon above.

He sighed. Perhaps it wasn't as comforting as he thought.

"How could you not miss me, Cream?" he attempted a laugh again. "I was the most exciting thing within miles of your house. I still am, right?" He still asked for her approval on these things, and it bothered him.

"Right." At last, she laughed. That bright, cheering laughter as she used to. "You always will be. At least, when there aren't any adventures going on."

"Well," he nearly blushed, but saved himself quickly. "I'm glad to hear it. You'll always be the most amazing."

She did blush at his words, while he was unaware. Unaware, still looking up instead of at her. She knew he would always be looking elsewhere- he had other things to do- and she knew it. She knew it was finally time to let go.

"I love you."

"Wh-what?" He turned to look at her at last, with a look of utter shock.

She acknowledged it gently. "I always thought you'd find out. But since you didn't, I might as well tell you before I leave."

He had no words, and almost no idea of how to feel. Of course, he loved her back, but not in the way she would like, and he couldn't really imagine their future.

"It's okay. I know now that it won't work out. I'm going to let go." She smiled at him, and this surprised him more. She felt so much more content when she let the words escape.

"Oh-oh." He wished he could've made it better for her. He heaved a sad sigh and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

She was alright, and she hugged back.

"It's alright."

All at once, he realized the significance she held. The place in his life that was walking away. And he knew that he couldn't have ever had her as something more than a friend, but he didn't care. He was losing a friend nonetheless.

"I'm going to miss you so much." In an unusual pull of emotions, he squeezed tighter. "Sometimes when I think of you, I still see the two of us when we were younger. And I wish that things could go back- but you were right when you said that you didn't have a choice about growing up. I'll- we'll- just have to face it."

She was not used to this kind of response from him, and she especially didn't expect him to remember her words.

Moonlight brightened her otherwise pale face.

"You know I'll be back?" she smiled at him with melancholy.

He backed away from her, regaining his personal space, and he nodded. "I-I know. Visit soon."

She laughed, not because anything was funny, but because she knew they'd feel better parting with laughter than with tears.

He laughed with her, understanding what she meant by it right away.

She looked off to the house, remembering the figure in the window that had been observing them both. She smiled with slight unease, and knew she'd took too long to wish a goodbye.

"I have to go. I need to pack, anyway. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

She headed off, and he watched her- standing in the same yard they had so long ago.

She was winning the game of tag again- and she was getting away. Except he knew he'd catch up to her someday.

One day.


End file.
